Sir Richard noted that Rocelia looked appealingly toward her grandam; and, by the same token, so did the young knight. But not appealingly, withal. He was not unmindful at that moment that he was indeed playing the king. Sir Richard never afterward forgot that meal in the vague, warm light of the chimney-corner; with Rocelia, in a rose-glow of maidenly confusion, seated where he could feast his eyes upon the delicate transitions of expression upon her beautiful countenance. She was garbed in the robe a cutting of which was even then resting against his much disturbed heart, though the young knight lacked the resolution to tell her so. Perhaps she knew it though, he thought. Whereupon he became quite intoxicated with the knowledge that there existed between them a bond of secret understanding. They talked, God knows of what, he never knew. The dame had fallen into a doze upon one of the high-backed benches, for which blessing the young knight offered thanks to Morpheus. It gave them a good hour more together than they should likely otherwise have had. Soon after that the good dame snored loudly once or twice and then awakened suddenly from the noise of it. She rose immediately and begged permission to retire. "Dost thou not take the sun and air of the morning?" Sir Richard asked Rocelia when they were about to leave. "When the men are not here, and good grandam is not suffering of a gout," she answered. "I do so enjoy to wander through the forest, sire." "Then," said Sir Richard, "upon the morrow, wilt suffer me to be thy escort upon such an excursion?" There followed then a second triangular duel of the eyes. The result was similarly happy with the first. Sir Richard went contented and singing to his bed. For several glory-filled days thereafter it would be a walk with Rocelia in the morning through the forest glades; after which the young knight would ride northward to seek tidings of her father's condition. Times there were when it seemed impossible that he could recover. But, on the eighth day, Sir Richard found him wholly rational and well quit of his fever. He would soon be upon his feet now, he told the young knight, in a weak whisper. After that they would set out for Wales, he said, gathering their forces along the way, and then march down on London. Sir Richard was in no mind to say him yea or nay; his thoughts being every one upon Rocelia. When Tyrrell learned of the young knight's daily ride to his sick-bed he rendered him the heartiest of thanks. "'Tis indeed seldom, sire," he said, "that an humble servant is permitted the satisfaction of laboring for a grateful king." Tyrrell was once again become the shrewd and wily politician. Sir Richard remembered that all the way homeward (he called it home within his mind, it being the only place worthy of the name of which he knew), his heart was singing a merry lay within his breast, because of the good news he was carrying to Rocelia.